


Morwen and Luthien, or: the gay ballad of Beren and Luthien

by Lexaonlysmaller



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Beren is a woman, F/F, and Luthien is just as Tolkien described her, and everything just fell into place, had this crazy idea, like imagine a big soft butch with red hair and green eyes, yep that's her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-03 17:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexaonlysmaller/pseuds/Lexaonlysmaller
Summary: We all know the story, but what if Beren was a dashing heroine instead?P.S. And they both end up immortal in Aman, because I hate to see my darlings die, even if it's romantic as hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was born as a bet between me and a friend that implied I could not possibly write a ballad out of such extended and complex stuff, but here we are. It's not yet finished, so I'll post what I have already written and then I'll continue, even if with school it's not going to be exactly a cup of tea. 
> 
> This is meant to be a bard's tale, something you could hear told in the night around a fire with your friends.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. English is not my first language, so if you spot any mistake please let me know in the comments.

THE LAY OF MORWEN AND LUTHIEN

Now gather round and let me tell  
The story of a love  
That when it died had burnt alight  
The eldest elvish grove.

It started, then, in Elven-land,  
There always light will shine;  
In autumn-crowned Doriath  
Two hearts then would entwine.

Raven-haired Luthien  
Dances in the glade,  
And such a vision there she is,  
The shining elven maid.

Her raiment casts a glittering gleam  
That shrouds her form with light,  
And from the shadows of her hair  
Her grey eyes glimmer bright.

A crown of flowers on her head,  
A white and azure bloom;  
And when the starlight filled the glade  
The forest knew no doom.

The music for a skilled dance  
By a master should be played,  
And he who was the most renowned  
Sits there in the shade.

With ferny crown and lavish garbs  
He plays a silver pipe;  
And golden Daeron's music was,  
As fair as Aphrodite.

Only Maedhros, Feanor' son,  
Was much more skilled than him;  
But near the sea he wanders far,  
The light in his eyes dim.

The music bubbles, ripples and shrills,  
And faster move her dancing  
Feet, faster and faster still,  
'Til when it's seen advancing,

Over the wooden, blackened sea,  
The moon in all its glory;  
Even she would see the girl  
Who would make history.

So beautiful her dancing is,  
And such a lovely sight,  
That stills then now the Moon herself  
to see so pure a light.

Then suddenly the music stops  
And in the woods the rings  
A magic chant of endless power,  
And high the words then spring.

Half wordless and half elvish tongue  
It echoes through the land;  
And Daeron, on the listening branch,  
heartbroken, there he stands

His pipe then from his limp hands falls,  
Forgotten in the grass  
As if a numbing spell had there  
Unknowingly been cast.

As soon as Luthien stops her chant  
Abruptly he wakes up:  
A thumping as of thudding feet  
Announces now a trap-

His tourn arrives to cry to her  
"Swift, my darling, flee!  
A stranger walks this woods, alas,  
And harm might mean to thee!"

But Luthien never had to fear,  
Never in her life;  
And bravely then she stands her ground,  
Without even a knife.

But when she sees the ragged shape  
Tumbling in the glade,  
Fear then takes her and with a leap  
She hides in darker shade.

In the dim light she can see  
The haggard shadow fall,  
And when its face comes into view  
She forgets to crawl:

A woman's face she sees, surprised,  
And not an evil one;  
Her clothes are torn and streaked with blood  
Of strength left, she has none.

Fear now grips the elven maid  
So much, she dares not move:  
A herd of horses could pass her by  
And she'd not hear their hooves.

It was as when, the wise men say,  
The snake's eyes find their prey:  
Panic stricken, terrified,  
She can do naught but stay.

An hour later, maybe more,  
The woman stirs, her slumber  
Breaking, and soon she sits upright,  
The stars, they hide their number.

The stranger came from northern lands,  
And Morwen was her name:  
Her hardened face a result was  
Of valour, not of shame.

In groping blindly through the glade  
Amidst the moving trees  
Shining spots of gold she sees  
Inside a moonlight sea.

Elanor the flowers were,  
That as the sun do shine;  
Though Luthien loved them once before  
On them she sets the crime.

For Morwen now looks in the trees,  
The elven maid she spots:  
Bewildered then she stares at her,  
Her gaze she cannot drop.

A fiercer love in Morwen blooms  
That even can be said:  
Her heart is healed and slain anew,  
And tears of joy she sheds.

but Luthien is gripped, so fast,  
By terror, hot and grim,  
That seizes her heart with iron hand  
And makes the moon look dim.

No thought she has, not anymore,  
Except to run away:  
And fast she flees, as fast as bolt  
Of lightning in dark clouds grey.

Too tired is Morwen to run,  
She cries to no avail:  
"O gorgeous one, do not retreat,  
Your light, you see, it fails.

How could I harm you, Starlit one?  
Perfection cannot die!  
Of the Valar, which one are you?  
To guess, do I have to try?"

But far by now the princess is,  
Not heeding Morwen's words;  
She flees in the heart of the deepest woods  
Ignoring of love the force.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story goes on as scripted...

PART 2   
The woman though is left alone,   
Her heart like brittle glass:   
She swears on love to seek her always   
Until the Moon is dust. 

An autumn wanes, the winter comes,   
And fills the trees with snow;   
But in the woods the chase is on,   
Indeed, a brilliant show! 

For Luthien always danced at night   
Amidst the drifting fog;   
The wind of winter winds his horn   
Freezing leaf and log. 

And in the snow there Morwen goes,   
And onward does she run:   
The wind can freeze all that he likes   
Her love can't be undone. 

The starry dome is crystal clear   
Above the rustling trees:   
The Nightingale from hunter's gaze,   
Into the woods she flees. 

The word lies dumb in shrouding white   
The lights in heaven shine;   
The sky is hooded by the clouds,   
The stars now are aligned. 

On the night at winter's end   
She dances on a hill   
And Morwen watches with desire,   
The faint and sweetest chill. 

Down the slope then Luthien runs,   
Her feet as light as feather:   
In her eyes unbridled flame,   
Her mantle in the heather. 

Then a bird, late and sweet,   
Sings a bitter song   
That speaks of loneliness and death,   
Of cold and winter long. 

But then of love he sings aloud,  
Of torment soft and sweet:   
Forget we can't, though oft we try,   
For it renders us complete. 

And Morwen there, amidst the trees,   
Eyes fixed on the scene:   
Maiden white and raven hair   
Inside the forest green. 

And though she wants, she cannot run,   
Nor move outside the trees,   
For the spell that holds her still   
She can't just break with ease. 

But on the night when winter dies   
She dances in the glade;   
And not a bird is singing there   
But shining elven maid. 

An ode to the moon she sang aloud,   
Her voice like honey sweet;   
And when the sun starts rising red   
She dances with fleeting feet. 

The sight of her, there shining bright,   
Finally breaks the chain   
And Morwen runs towards her love   
For passion drives insane. 

Buth Luthien sees her from afar,   
And something stirs awake:   
It isn't fear, that much she knows;   
The heart, it starts to ache. 

And still she flees from Morwen's arms,   
Avoiding every chase,   
But often now she turns around   
To look at Morwen's face. 

For a year they play this game,   
Near, but far apart,   
And for neither is a sport,   
They run like fleeting darts. 

And when again the spring arrives   
The valley is the same,   
But the dress is red this time,   
As red as burning flame. 

Again one runs, again one flees,   
The stars are shining bright;   
But Morwen then, she halts her steps,   
She calls out in the night: 

"Tinuviel! Tinuviel!"   
She cries out Luthien's name   
"Tinuviel! Tinuviel!"   
And so she stops the game. 

For Luthien now is standing still,   
A red star in the grass;   
She listens to the woman's voice,   
Her feet in a morass. 

Tinuviel's an elven word   
That then meant nightingale:   
It was the name that Morwen gave her   
When in the woods she wailed. 

Such love and longing her voice fills   
Luthien cannot run:   
A moment stands she, only one,   
And then she's overrun. 

And Morwen takes her in her arms,   
A beauty in the moonlight:   
She looks at her and in her eyes   
She sees the starry night. 

The woman kisses her like fire,   
As one who in the desert   
Finds a river, flowing cool,   
And kneels there, in the dirt. 

And in that moment Luthien falls,   
Her fate now stakes his claim:   
One last time she flees afar,   
Her lips, though, still aflame. 

And Morwen topples in the grass,   
Still aswoon in bliss:   
Her mind is clouted, her eyes dim,   
And all for an elvish kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now the story starts to slowly diverge from canon....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the people who left kudos, I'm really happy you liked it.

PART 3

When she wakes, she's all alone,  
The sun is rising east;  
She looks, frantic, in the glade,  
Terror grips her chest.

Losing love just when it's found,  
It would make hell turn pale:  
And Morwen now, she screams in pain,  
and cries to no avail:

"Again you run, o starlit one,  
It's more than I can bear!  
Here spring hath died, here spring was born,  
And here I'll die with her.

Come back to me, my Nightingale,  
Don't leave me here alone;  
For now I know, and in truth I tell,  
Your heart is not of stone."

That day she wanders in the wood  
With low and heavy heart:  
The season is for love and joy  
And not for being apart.

And when the twilight clasps the earth  
The wood is standing still,  
But in the silence Morwen hears  
A faint and distant shrill.

And Luthien then, in rays of white,  
Is seen there, on the edge  
Of the forest bathed in night,  
And Morwen, there, she begs:

Oh Elven maid, stay but awhile,  
Your eyes, don't turn away!  
Ne'er I'll talk, or chase again  
Your blinding beauty astray.

No more I'll call you in the night  
Or in the light of day;  
From afar I'll watch you dance,  
Your trust I won't betray.

But don't deny me, maiden fair,  
Don't look at me with fear:  
I ask you not for your pale hand  
Nor I require you near.

As long as I alone can watch  
The beauty of your dance  
I'll quell my love and quench my heart:  
I pray, give me a chance.

Luthien laughed then in delight  
And walked right up to her:  
A mortal are you, or so I think,  
But maybe I do err.

One of yours, I've never seen,  
Not inside this realm;  
How you entered, I would know,  
Amidst the beech and elm.

Long I've seen you in the woods  
watching me at night:  
Why you do it, tell me that,  
And I'll stay in your sight."

And Morwen dropped right to her knees,  
And softly spoke aloud:  
"What cause have I to follow you  
Except that I so vowed?

On the brightest autumn night  
You danced on that green hill:  
When I saw you, I can swear,  
My heart, I thought it killed.

When you ran, o starlit one,   
You left me in despair:  
My mind was lost, my spirit dim,  
My life I did forswear.

I lived in shade and darkness drear,  
Amidst the shadow trees:  
I loathed light and loved the night,  
At night I looked on thee.

For a year my life was yours,  
And still, I live for you:  
Just with a word, Tinuviel,  
I'd die for you anew.

As I held you in my arms,  
My life, I thought complete,  
But when my lips did bear on yours  
I felt my limbs effete.

Out of love I follow you,  
But please, don't run away:  
Ne'er I'll mention it again  
In light of stars or day."

Luthien trembles in the glade,  
A shiver down her spine:  
But lightly stands in flowers white,  
A dance she does entwine.

Through hemlock tall and umbels fair  
She moves in ways unknown  
To mortal men or elves of light,  
A herald of the morn.

Her raiment white in light is cast,  
The dawn is gleaming red,  
But when the sun does start to rise  
The rays shine on her head.

But Morwen cries aloud in pain,  
Her eyes can't stand the sun:  
Too long she stood in darkness grim,  
Far from all but one.

She crawls amid the darkling wood,  
Strength she has not to rise:  
A hand then falls upon her arm,  
A veil over her eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

And Lúthien guides her to a cave   
Hidden near the stream:  
The light of day that rises east  
Is only a distant gleam.

When Morwen opens, slow, her eyes,  
Her wrist she sees are bound,  
Tied with silk, not iron cold,  
Around her not a sound.

When she spots the elven girl  
Sitting in the shade  
She drinks her in, her garments white  
And hair in a braid.

She wants to laugh, or cry with joy,  
But still she doesn’t know  
Why Luthien bound her to the rock  
But left around her bow.

“Why are you here, Tinuviel,  
The moon is not outside.  
I thought you left your father’s house  
When the sun had died.

My hands are tied, was it your doing?  
Are you afraid of me?  
You need not fear me, maiden fair,  
You have my guarantee.”

Lúthien blushes and casts her eyes   
Aground, she trembles then,  
But swift, unites the silken bonds  
And then steps back again.

“I thought you could, in madness lost,  
Turn against yourself;  
You’re free, of course...that is, to go,  
As though you were an elf.

I meant no ill restraining you,   
A prisoner you’re not:  
Should I take you where I fell?  
I’m sure I’d find the spot.”

But Morwen jumps now to her feet,  
She speaks in rasping words;  
You’d think her heart was screaming, though,  
For long it went unheard.

“Bring me back, Tinuviel,   
And I will surely die:  
No more I’d find you, brightest star,  
Not even in the night.  
Leave me here and only one  
Thing I’ll ask of you:  
Come and find me, when you want,  
And here I’ll say adieu.”

As Lúthien starts to answer her  
A noise is heard outside,   
As when a thunder sudden booms  
And with the rain collides.

An hunting horn the woodlands wakes  
From the quiet of dawn,  
And Lúthien, startled, jumps upright  
As if the sound had drawn her

From a dream she would not leave  
If not by force coerced.  
Morwen though knows not the sound  
And nocks an arrow first,

But a hand goes to her wrist  
And stops her going out:  
For Lúthien knows the the Horn of Kings  
And she’s devoured by doubt

Her father ne’er went out his halls  
Unless the night was dark:  
The light of Aman in his eyes  
Allowed no other spark.

Only Daeron could then be,  
And Lúthien softly said:  
“Tonight I’ll come, but you stay here  
Or else you’ll end up dead.

No love for Men my father has,  
And he won’t hesitate   
To put you down and hurt my heart,  
For I believe in fate:

Not by chance I think we met,  
A woman and an elf:  
The Valar surely have some plan,  
You must think so yourself.”

“Indeed I think, o elven fair,  
That Fate was far too kind  
To make me see so pure a light  
That e’en the gods would blind

To do your bidding, maiden fair,  
It’s not hard for me:  
Here I’ll wait and here I’ll pray  
Your beauty again to see.”

With a smile and flushed cheeks  
Lúthien goes outside,  
Her hand still tingling from the kiss  
That she tries to hide.

Again and again the horn resounds  
And then she starts to run  
Towards the stream that guards the West  
Whose springs are known to none.


End file.
